


Shards

by icedcafelatte



Series: Immortal 1 [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Immortality, Impalement, Original Character(s), Other, Pain, Torture, Whump, glass, healing factor, immortal character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-09
Updated: 2019-01-09
Packaged: 2019-10-07 08:48:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17362832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icedcafelatte/pseuds/icedcafelatte
Summary: The first in a series of prompt fills and short stories featuring an immortal character who keeps getting captured and terrible things happening to them.





	Shards

**Author's Note:**

> The first in a series of prompt fills and short stories featuring an immortal character who keeps getting captured and terrible things happening to them.

They woke up, weak and disoriented, in an unfamiliar place. Cautiously they  turned their head to look at their surroundings.

The last thing they remembered was being caught and strapped down to a table. Then something was injected in their arm and they were out cold.

Now they were…in an empty room? It was big, the walls painted and floor carpeted, though the carpet was stained and torn in places. The only furniture was a desk against one side of the wall, the only decorations were old medical diagrams. A doctor’s office in an abandoned hospital, perhaps.

They cautiously moved their hands to feel over their body. They felt…fine? Which was unexpected. But that didn’t mean they weren’t still in danger.

The door to the room was wide open.

Either his captors had abandoned them here, or waited and they’d have to fight their way out.

They sat up quickly, and all at once their entire body lit up with pain.

“ _A-aah!”_ Their cry echoed through the empty room and they froze, back arched, mouth open and eyes wide with the sudden, searing, _stabbing pain_ currently thrumming through their unsuspecting body. Sparks flashed in front of their eyes and for a moment they thought they might pass out.

Breathing heavily, they slowly looked down at their bare torso.

Nothing. No blood, no bruises. Nothing felt broken.

And yet it felt like a dozen knives were stabbing through them. Like something was… _inside_ them…

They breathed shakily through the onslaught of pain and fear. They had to get out of here. Whatever was wrong, they needed to get help.

Slowly, agonizingly, they got to their feet, every little movement unbearable, like someone was stabbing them from the inside out, all over. They were beginning to notice the specific points of pain, rather than all over. _Four_ in their stomach. One at each side of their ribs. One in each shoulder. And once they reach their feet they gasped brokenly and nearly fell back down. One in each thigh.

They looked down at their torso again and were alarmed to find redness and bruising beginning to color their skin. They pressed shaky fingers to one darkened spot and whined. There was something hard behind it.

As soon as they settled, the marks slowly faded as their body healed itself. But the fierce pain never let up for a moment, leaving them shaking, short of breath.

They gave a shuddering sigh, squeezing their eyes shut. _I have to get out of here_. But it would be a hellish journey.

They began to take stiff, careful steps, wincing and twitching with every stabbing sensation that shot through them. They kept one hand on the wall, inching forward bit by bit, the other wrapped around their aching stomach, which was getting the worst of it.

As they moved the bruises re-bloomed across them only to fade away when they stopped to breathe, like fireworks of throbbing pain across their tender skin.

They made it out of the room and continued forward. Their breaths came out half-pants, half-whimpers, equal parts pain and fear that someone would show up at any minute.

No one came. No one needed to. This was torment enough.

And then…

 _Oh god. Stairs_.

They were on the second floor, at least. Maybe higher. If they fell - they couldn’t even let themself think about how terrible that would be.

They gingerly took the stairs one at a time, sharp pain lancing through their trembling thighs with every step, pausing at the bottom of each flight to catch their breath and let their newest bruising heal. As they moved their high, pained moans echoed up the stairwell.

 _Finally_ they reached the bottom and pushed the door open to outside, blinking against the sudden brightness.

And then when their eyes adjusted they saw…they weren’t alone. Three strangers stood before them.

They wobbled on their weakened legs and wrapped both arms around their torso, a futile attempt to protect it from further abuse. There was no way they could fight back or defend themselves in this condition…

The stranger in the middle, the leader, smirked, eyes skimming down their trembling body. “I’m surprised you made it this far.” He turned to one of his partners and nodded towards them. “Take them out.”  
  
The other man pulled up his sleeves and grinned. “All at once, or one at a time?“

They were backed against the wall as the man approached, pulling what looked like long, sharp pliers out of his pocket. _Oh no…no, no…_

The man pressed a hand, _hard_ , to a deep bruise across their ribs. A scream tore from their throat as they tried to pull away.  
  
“Should I start with the glass…” he began.  
  
The cruel hand wandered down to one of their thighs, grabbed it and _squeezed_ , sending piercing pain through it. They wailed and their legs gave out.  
  
“…or the fish hooks?”

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](https://thoughtsonhurtandcomfort.tumblr.com)


End file.
